Body Swap
by Mnemosyne77
Summary: Merlin and Arthur swap lives for a week. No slash. Kind of Arthur/Gwen, Merlin/Morgana but mostly just silliness.
1. Princes are above dares

**Princes are above dares**

"Honestly, what on Earth do you do all day?"

It would be sometime later that Arthur would look back and regret those words. But for now, it was nearly sunset and Merlin had arrived late with his dinner, hadn't cleaned his chainmail or his robes for the annual midwinter feast, and had obviously only just mucked out the stables. Obvious because he still had hay in his hair.

It was the kind of comment that Arthur was used to Merlin either ignoring or responding to with some smart riposte of his own, usually involving the words 'arrogant', 'ass', or 'prat'. But tonight, for some reason, Merlin gave him a speculative look, tightened his lips and then said, "I tell you what, why don't we swap?"

"Swap? Swap what?"

"Our lives," said Merlin, "for one week, you can be me and I can be you."

"That has got to be the dumbest idea you have ever... do you really think the Crown Prince of Camelot can just take a week off... honestly, you, Merlin, the clumsiest man ever to step foot through the front gates, training the Knights and defending the Kingdom? Merlin... really..."

"Fine then, if you think being me would be too hard..."

On some level, Arthur was very aware that Merlin had just essentially called him a chicken and that princes shouldn't respond to that sort of taunt. They should be mature. They should be removed from such petty concerns as the opinions of servants, particularly the annoyingly-upbeat one in front of him. They should...

"Merlin, I can say without a doubt that anything you can do I can do, and better. You have a deal," he found himself saying. I mean seriously, he thought, how hard could it be?

As he had suspected, Uther was unimpressed by the arrangement. He tried to order Arthur not to do it, but the combined weight of his troll bride, the incident with the Witchfinder and 'that fight of which they did not speak" regarding Arthur's mother, had sapped the King's ability to fight his son's will.

"This is insanity," he'd protested, "that you would lower yourself to such menial tasks and for what? To prove that you can do household tasks even peasants can do. You have far greater abilities and far greater responsibilities to this Kingdom, to me, and to yourself."

Arthur had stood firm to his father, floating various arguments in favour of the proposal (the people would love it, it would help him understand how the Kingdom functioned, there were no important social visits and no danger to Camelot at the moment, it could be said to be a joke for the Midwinter festival, a reversal of fortunes that people would see as amusing, it might help them like him better) until he'd finally just told him he was going to do it and there was nothing Uther could do to stop him.

"Merlin and I will swap rooms tonight and as of tomorrow morning, he will be me and I will be him. We've even decided to swap names so you can start calling me Merlin. No jokes about my ears."

He went to his chambers and began gathering a few items to take with him.

"Ah, no," said Merlin's cheerful tones behind him. "You're me now and, I hate to break it to you, but you don't actually own anything. You're a peasant. All that you have belongs to the Crown by law. You are allowed to use certain things with their compliments. They don't include those," and he pointed to the clothes Arthur was gathering up.

"I have, however, taken the liberty of procuring some appropriate attire in your size," and Arthur noticed he was carrying a small package with him.

"Gwen made them for you," Merlin said absently, his bottom lip tucked under his teeth as he negotiated the string around the package.

"Here you go," he said, and handed him the clothes.

"You have got to be kidding me," said Arthur flatly, eyeing the two shirts and one pair of trousers Merlin had handed him. "This is it, for one week."

"Yep," replied Merlin, far too happily, "I did tell Gwen that one shirt was enough for only one week but she appears to have made you two. And oh," he stripped off his jacket, "here you go, you can have my jacket. I want that back in one piece, mind you. It's the only one I have."

"But what do I sleep in?" asked Arthur, incredulously.

Merlin cocked his head in a way that Arthur had always thought as insolent. Now he found it annoyed him even more.

"You're looking at it," said Merlin earnestly and then beamed. "Now, if you wouldn't mind leaving my room? I'd like to get an early night."

Arthur turned toward the door, wondering precisely when he had agreed to allow his life to spiral out of control like this.

"Oh, _Mer_lin," said a contented voice behind him, "I've spoken to Sir Leon about your responsibilities for tomorrow. I mean, of course _my_ responsibilities for tomorrow, which _are_ your responsibilities for tomorrow. I need you to get everything ready for me to go out on patrol with the Knights two hours after breakfast. Probably best to get it done before you go to bed."

And then as Arthur – Merlin he said to himself mentally, I must remember I'm bloody Merlin – left to clean the armour, chainmail and sword and get the horses ready for tomorrow, he could have slaughtered Merlin – Arthur! – for the satisfied smirk on his face as he climbed into bed with a sigh of pleasure.

And Merlin... Arthur... the Merlin with blonde hair suddenly thought. Didn't we just make this deal a few hours ago? How did he get clothes tailored so quickly?

"That devious, scheming, underhanded...skinny, big-eared, funny-faced..." the insults continued (and continued getting lamer) echoing off the hallway as he walked toward the armoury all the time cursing a certain dark-haired servant who'd obviously been planning this little revenge for a while.

"I'll show him," he muttered to himself as he stalked through the silent halls of Camelot. "I'll show him how easy it is being him. You just watch. I'll show him."

* * *

**My muse is still missing but a plot bunny dropped by my place instead. Bit of fun after the seriousness of 'A Lion and a Unicorn'. New multi-chapter story but unlike the other I have no idea where this one is going. Canon relationships but I might have a bit of fun later on.**


	2. Day 1

**Day 1**

The problem, Arthur realised as he shuffled around trying to get comfortable on a pallet so skinny his shoulder blades popped over the edge on each side, the problem was that he had stood in the Throne Room and insisted to this father that he was going to swap with Merlin for a week and there was nothing he could do about it.

He could hardly turn around now and say, oh sorry I was tricked and I've changed my mind. It's possible that some people might declare him stubborn but Arthur was mentally insistent to himself. He'd made this... really really small and uncomfortable... bed and he was bloody well going to lie in it. Every night for a week.

"Damn you, Merlin," he cursed his servant even as he watched the sun slowly rise over Camelot through the small window in his room. Oh damn, breakfast!

Arthur (Merlin! he reminded himself, today I'm Merlin) leapt out of bed, suddenly realising that he was supposed to bring Merlin (Arthur, he's Arthur) his breakfast an hour after sunrise and that was sooner than he'd realised.

He pulled a shirt on over his one pair of trousers (he'd already searched the room in the hope of finding some of Merlin's clothes hidden but they seemed to have been secreted elsewhere) and stumbled down the stairs to the living area.

"Merlin," said Gaius cheerfully. He was sitting at the table eating what looked like porridge. "Are you only just getting out of bed? I thought you'd gone to get the mushrooms."

"Mushrooms?" asked Arthur, confused, "what mushrooms?"

"The mushrooms I needed for the formulation I'm doing today. Well, you'd better go and get them quickly, otherwise I won't be able to get Uther's potion to him by tonight. They have to be picked before the sun is fully risen."

"But, breakfast..." Arthur tried to argue.

"You should have gotten up earlier if you wanted something to eat. You don't have enough time now, not if you intend to deliver Arthur's breakfast within the next hour. Or do you want me telling the King his potion is not ready because you did not get the ingredients?"

Gaius handed him a bucket and a spade and directed him gently toward the door.

"Now hurry back with those and then take the Prince his breakfast. Oh, and remember that it's Thursday. Be back by mid morning so we can go pot collecting."

"But, Merlin, I mean, Arthur, is going on patrol two hours after breakfast. He needs his horses tended to."

"Then you should have done that last night before you went to bed. Honestly, Merlin, who said you could sit around all evening doing nothing? Now get to it, we've both got a busy day."

And he was so tired from lack of sleep and so flustered that he didn't see the amusement on Gaius' face as he left the room. If he had, he might have questioned whether Gauis would really threaten to accuse Merlin of incompetence to the King or send him out without breakfast.

But he didn't see it and so he strode blithely off into the forest to the spot Gaius had indicated and then looked down in horror at the seven different types of mushrooms growing there. He had no idea which type Gaius wanted; he'd just have to pick them all.

"I'm going to need a bigger bucket."

* * *

"Honestly, Merlin, what do you do all day?" said Arthur as Merlin struggled in with his breakfast tray a full two hours after sunrise. Arthur (Merlin! he thought, I'm Merlin) wondered just how long his former servant had been standing there waiting to deliver that line and suspected it had been all morning.

He placed the tray down, looked up at the raven-haired man before him and did a small unnoticeable double take. Because somehow and from somewhere Merlin had gotten appropriate attire for a Prince and he looked, well, princely. Someone had also tackled his terrible hair cut and had arranged it so his ears were not so prominent. His deep blue doublet made his eyes look even bluer and disguised the angularity of his form.

"Gods," exclaimed Arthur (Merlin!), "you could actually pass for a Prince."

"And you could definitely pass for an incompetent idiot of a servant," grinned Merlin and Arthur couldn't help but grin back.

"The problem is that some arrogant ass didn't bother to tell me about the mushrooms I was supposed to collect this morning," he said sardonically.

"Oh, the mushrooms. Sorry, as the Crown Prince I have no knowledge of mushrooms. I guess that must be one of the many extra things you do that I don't notice because I'm such a conceited, self-absorbed git."

"You know, you could have found a more subtle way to make your point, _Arthur_, but as dense as I am I can understand something if you state it outright, something you might have to work on."

"Princes don't do subtle."

"Yes, as I said, you've made your point so can we swap back now?"

"You're not actually trying to back down from our deal, are you? After less than one day? What would people say? Come on, being me isn't that hard. After all, I manage to do it every day."

"Fine," said Arthur, who was just starting to work out what a mess he'd gotten himself into and had decided to face it with resigned fortitude. "So I suppose I should make your bed and clean your chambers while you eat breakfast and go on patrol with the Knights?" The Knights, he thought, oh this could be fun. Let's see how he feels after a morning with the Knights. He'll be begging me to swap back.

"I also need you to launder my robes for the Midwinter Festival tomorrow night. Oh, and Merlin, remember to launder yours as well."

"Yes my Lord," said Arthur (Merlin! he thought, I'm bloody Merlin), even as the words stuck in his throat. "Will there be anything else while you're gone?" The words came out of his mouth but what he was thinking was: I hope you fall off your horse and Sir Leon laughs at you.

"Oh yes, Merlin, of course. Tomorrow night, make sure you wear the hat." And he waltzed out the door with a giant, undignified _unPrince-like_ grin on his face.

"That devious, scheming, underhanded...skinny, big-eared, funny-faced..." the insults continued (and continued getting lamer) echoing off the walls as he cleaned his own chambers hoping against hope he could finish by mid morning so he could go pot collecting (what the hell was pot collecting anyway?), and all the time cursing a certain dark-haired servant who'd obviously been planning this little revenge for a while.

"I'll show him," he muttered to himself as he plumped the pillows and changed the sheets. "I'll show him how easy it is being him. You just watch. I'll show him."


	3. Day 2

**Day 2**

The problem, Arthur realised as he shuffled around trying to get comfortable on a pallet so skinny his shoulder blades popped over the edge on each side, the problem was that everyone in the entire Kingdom except Uther had so ardently embraced the swap.

Arthur had not been serious when he'd told his father that the people would love it; that they would see it as a Midwinter joke and appreciate the reversal of fortunes. It may not be the real reason he had agreed to it (why had he agreed to it again? That was one question he barely dared answer. He was the Crown Prince of Camelot and admitting he'd just done it for a dare seemed...childish upon reflection) but that was the story he and the new Arthur had given everyone in Camelot.

To his astonishment, they had greeted his pronouncement enthusiastically, taking such great delight in bearing down on him in the street and asking 'Merlin' how he was going and whether he had had enough of working for that arrogant prince. Why the common people had decided that it was now acceptable to insult him to his face he couldn't fathom. But it nonetheless happened on a regular basis. Even the guards of Camelot had started harassing him as much as they harassed the ordinary people. He'd decided to take the name-calling and character assassination good-naturedly and found people slapping him on the back and inviting him for a beer.

As if he ever had time for a beer.

After only one day he was already convinced that Gaius was just making some of these chores up. Clean the leech tank? Why did he have a leech tank anyway? He'd never noticed it before. He'd never even seen Gaius use leeches. He couldn't possibly have acquired one just to make the 'new Merlin' clean it, could he?

And the worst, the absolute worst, was his so-called loyal, noble Knights of Camelot. Instead of humiliating their new scrawny whip thin leader, they had spent all yesterday singing his praises. Loudly. 'Merlin' had gone to the training ground in the afternoon expecting (hoping) to find 'Arthur' being soundly beaten by his Knights, possibly with an embarrassing bruise or two from falling off his horse during patrol.

Instead, he had found Merlin sitting propped up against a tree while his Knights had fought each other. He wasn't entirely sure but he thought he was lightly snoring.

"What on Earth is going on here?" he'd demanded and to his horror Sir Caradoc had clipped him over the ear.

"Don't speak like that to your liege," he'd said, the smirk he was trying to hide peeking out from the side of his lips. "Have some respect, boy."

"Of course, My Lord," he'd managed through clenched teeth, "I don't know what I was thinking."

"Very well, attend to your duties servant. I'm sure your Master has a great deal for you to do."

'Merlin' had walked over and sat beside 'Arthur' who it turned out was not sleeping but was writing notes on a piece of parchment. 'Merlin' saw drawings of Knights and notes beside them. He was completely flabbergasted when Sir Peregrine wandered over after winning his sword fight with Sir Leon and asked Merlin for his opinion.

He was even more astounded when Merlin replied, "you're favouring your left foot and it's causing you to lose your balance. Do you have an injury on your right leg?"

"Yes Sire," replied Sir Peregrine, "I sustained it in the last battle. My leg has healed but my knee still gives me trouble if I exert it too much."

"Umm, Merlin here might have a poultice for that. What do you say, Merlin?"

"Ah, um, ah," managed 'Merlin'.

"Just as I thought," said 'Arthur' smoothly and, he noticed, not a bit sardonically, "report to Gaius after training and see if he can help."

All in all, everyone around him was having far too much fun at his expense. For some reason, there seemed to be some Camelot-wide conspiracy to make his life harder and Arthur's (Merlin, he was Merlin. I'm Arthur) easier.

The only one, apart from Uther, who didn't seem in on it was Guinevere who avoided him as much as before. He and Gaius had passed her in the street just this morning, him with pots dangling off his shoulder looking like a complete idiot, but instead of greeting him as she would Merlin she'd simply nodded and walked on.

He sighed and gave up on sleep. The one benefit of this ridiculous charade might have been an excuse to spend time with Gwen as equals. It appeared she wasn't about to let that happen.

'Merlin' climbed out of bed, pulled his shirt over his trousers and stumbled down into the main room. It was at least an hour before dawn but he was nothing if not a fast learner. Between the breakfasts and mushrooms and horses and cleaning and pot-collecting and armour polishing and leech-tank cleaning, he hadn't had enough time yesterday to do the laundry and Gaius had made some ominous noises about the floor of his workshop needing scrubbing. He figured he could have his own breakfast, take 'Arthur' his, do the laundry and then the robes could dry as he cleaned 'Arthur's' chambers.

Gods, he thought, only one day and I'm already thinking of him as Arthur. Something is very wrong with this world.

There was only one flaw with his plan, he realised, as he surveyed Gaius' sleeping form in the corner of the room. He had no idea how to cook breakfast.

"Great," he said softly, "that's just great."

* * *

"Oh Merlin," said a cheerful voice and to Arthur's astonishment he realised it was Morgana that addressed him. She actually sounded happy to see him. Who was this person?

"Yes," he replied sharply, not happy to be once again interrupted in the middle of his chores. Honestly, how was he supposed to get anything done if people kept asking him to do things? He'd only just managed to find time to go to the laundry and at this rate the robes for the Midwinter Feast would not be dry in time. What would Arthur say?

No, it's fine, he said to himself, I can still get all this done. I'm me. I am better than Arthur (Merlin! No, _I'm_ Merlin. Am I? Who am I again?) I can do this.

"Merlin?" she said disbelievingly and he realised she was referring to the tone he'd used to address her.

"Oh, oh, um, yes My Lady, how can I help you?"

"No," Morgana said crossly, "you're supposed to run them together, like milady, and you're supposed to sound happy to serve. And you're supposed to smile a lot. And bring me flowers."

'Merlin' smiled inwardly at her flippant tone. Although his feelings toward Morgana had ranged wildly over the last few years from 'annoyance' to 'beauty' to 'sister' and back again to 'annoyance', he had noticed with some concern her increasingly reserved mood over the past few months. Ever since the Druids, he thought, she's been so morose. It was good to see her getting into the spirit of things, even if it was at his expense.

"Yes _milady_," Merlin – Arthur! his internal monologue screamed – managed to strain out between his teeth that were beginning to clench. "How can I help you?" And he thought, flowers? Plural? I only know of one bunch. That sneaky little...

"I went riding this morning and I'm quite sore from the exercise. Do you think you have time to give me a massage?"

"A _massage_? What's a massage?"

"Oh, Merlin learnt it off some travelling physicians a few months ago. It's a way of rubbing sore muscles so they feel better. Does he not do this for you?" she asked, "I would have thought it could be very therapeutic for injuries you sustain in jousting and such."

"No, he's never mentioned it to me," he replied, his teeth clenching even tighter.

"Well, it's really amazing, so relaxing. If you just come to my chambers, I'll get into my nightgown."

Arthur's face froze in terror at that statement. Morgana saw his expression and looked concerned, or what he as a child had soon learnt was Morgana-concerned. It meant she wasn't really concerned at all.

"Oh, Merlin, I mean the other Merlin, said I need to wear only my nightgown because it makes it easier not to have to go through so many layers of fabric."

"Does he now?" said Arthur, his jaw starting to throb with the pressure as images of Merlin's hands all over Morgana's naked shoulders flitted through his brain. Uther would have his head if he knew. Arthur might just beat him to it.

"Oh," she said, "well, I can see that you're busy and don't know anything about massage. I'll muddle through without it. I wonder why he's only offered massages to me. I'm sure he has a reason."

"Yes," he managed to reply through teeth now so ground together it was almost impossible to move his jaw, "I'm sure he does."

And as soon as she was round the corner, he could have sworn he heard her laughing.

"That devious, scheming, underhanded...skinny, big-eared, funny-faced..." the insults continued (and continued getting lamer) echoing off the hallway as he walked down toward the laundry with the basket containing the royal robes and their servant equivalent.

"Thinks he can get away with behaviour like this right under our noses? I'll show him."

"But first I have to get this blasted laundry done."


	4. Day 3

**Day 3**

Arthur rolled over on his thin pallet and groaned. His head hurt, his mouth was dry, his stomach felt as though it had a considerable hole in it, and he felt vaguely ill. He took a moment to decide whether he was going to throw up and decided not to. At least for now.

He couldn't understand it. He really hadn't thought he drank that much at the previous evening's celebrations. He'd been so busy tending to his bloody replacement's needs that he was sure he'd had about half his usual consumption of mead.

And wine.

And beer.

Ergh. Maybe he'd had more than he'd thought. Or maybe along with Merlin's annoying chores he'd inherited his head for alcohol. Now there was a depressing thought.

He struggled to remember the events of the night before but apart from being ordered to fill the Prince's goblet far more than was wise, it was all a bit vague.

That was not a good sign.

Imbibing too much at the Midwinter Feast was a time-honoured tradition but so was the Midwinter boar hunt the next day. Ignoring for a moment the ridiculous thought of Merlin hunting boars, he really didn't think he was up for it. Maybe Merlin would give him the day off, he thought hopefully. Then he remembered the sheer glee in which his former servant had greeted each day of their ridiculous dare so far and realised it was unlikely.

"Damn you, Merlin," he muttered and not for the first time. "Why can't I die in peace?"

He looked out at the pre-dawn light flickering above the horizon and realised he was going to have to get up soon. He needed food and something to scrape off his tongue the layer of whatever it was that was coating his mouth. If he was well-organised he could schedule in a bout of vomiting before they had to ride out. His stomach rolled at the thought and he realised it was just waiting for him to put something in it so it had something to regurgitate.

What on Earth happened last night?

He remembered, he remembered…

…being in the laundry cursing Merlin and hoping that Morgana's talk of half-naked massages was a joke. The robes had been a right-royal pain to clean (no pun intended). Why on Earth did all their feasts have to descend into food fights? And why hadn't he asked Merlin to clean them straight after instead of waiting for the food to harden on the fabric?

"Idiot," he'd exclaimed and then wondered if he was talking about himself or his wayward servant.

After he'd hung them to dry, he'd rather surreally organised lunch for Merlin and Morgana, trying desperately not to think of nightgowns or bedchambers. Uther would have under normal circumstances dined with Arthur and Morgana at Midwinter. Once he'd realised, however, that everyone in his Kingdom had gone slightly insane and would have reacted badly had he, just as an example, had Merlin flogged, he'd locked himself in his chambers for the duration. Arthur was expecting him to re-emerge in a few day's time pretending that the whole thing had never happened.

Merlin and Morgana, he'd decided, were having far too much fun; their almost-identical white skin, black hair and blue eyes now matched by faintly-amused glances as Arthur tended to them at the table. Their lunch dragged on for hours, each of them devising more and more ridiculous things they required him to fetch until he'd finally told them he'd had enough and stormed out.

As he'd left the dining hall, he'd run bodily into a very pretty servant he'd never seen before. What was her name? He couldn't quite remem… Bella. That was it. She'd seemed amused at his clumsiness and he'd flashed her a smile and introduced himself as "Arth…ah… Merlin… um, today but not always," which had amused her even more. He'd decided that maybe being a servant for a few days wasn't too bad. If only Gwen would treat him that way, this might be worth it.

Oh Gwen! Now he remembered. He'd been at the feast with that ridiculous feathered hat towering above his head and all the Knights telling him how beautiful he was and pretending that they'd mistaken him for a maid and he'd made the error of acting like Merlin in front of Gwen.

"Playing at being a commoner again, are we?" she'd snapped and he'd stupidly made some snide remark about her preferring commoners; a rather unfortunate reference to Lancelot. She'd turned her back and refused to meet his gaze for the rest of the evening. Honestly, he had no idea why she was so angry at him. I mean, she was the one who'd kissed someone else. Not that there was a problem with her kissing someone else. It's not as though they could have been anything.

"Women!" he yelled, muffling it with his inadequate pillow. After this was over he'd buy Merlin a new one. No one with a hangover should have this hard rock under his head. He rolled onto his back and marvelled at how much more comfortable the pallet was this morning. It was as though his body had gotten so used to it in only a few nights that it had worked out a way to stay on without his shoulders dangling off each side.

Oh yes, Bella. She had been at the feast as well, serving…somebody. She was very pretty. Not beautiful like Morgana or exotic like Gwen but pretty in a comforting way. Dark blonde hair, very straight, blue eyes, skin like strawberries and cream. She was short and slightly plump and he'd found himself talking to her for quite a long time after Gwen's rejection.

She didn't speak much and he'd rambled on about the dare and the swap. Then what had she said? Something odd. She'd said that maybe he'd agreed to the dare because he secretly wanted Merlin's life. That maybe he secretly wanted a life without responsibility, without the weight of his father's expectation, without the danger and excitement.

"Are you suggesting I want to be _Merlin_," he'd exclaimed, stunned.

"Maybe," she'd said, "maybe you think if you were him your life would be easier."

"Let me tell you," he'd slurred. This had obviously been later in the evening, "I've been Merlin for two days now and his life _is_ easier even if he does have too much work to do, far too much work to do, a ridiculous amount of work to do. It's all just tasks, jobs. They ask him to do it and he does it and it's over. No thought, no responsibility, no parent judging him, no Kingdom relying on him. I mean, look at him," and he'd waved a drunken hand in the direction of the young man laughing with his knights, "people just _like him_. They make allowances for him. He's only been me for a few days and I don't think they'd care if we ever swapped back. Even my father likes him, not that he'd ever admit it. Why do you think he's letting this farce go on instead of throwing Merlin in the dungeons for impersonating royalty?"

He'd taken a swig of his goblet and then glared at Merlin who was he saw being tended upon by a very amused Gwen. Arthur may be in her bad books for the swap but Merlin apparently was not.

"Look at him," he slurred again, "every woman in my life prefers his company. He gives them one of his smiles and they melt for him. His life _is easier_!"

Arthur put his arm over his pained head and writhed in embarrassment. Oh Gods, he thought, I can't believe I said that. At least it was to a stranger. Hopefully nobody else heard.

"Merlin!" yelled Gaius from the other room and he groaned once more and stumbled out of bed, tripping blearily down the stairs and sitting down at the table. Gaius had made him some breakfast (thank you!) and he ate it hungrily, trying to quiet his ill stomach.

"Drank too much again last night did we, Merlin?" asked Gaius, not even faintly amused.

"Yes, I think I must have," he replied, finishing off the bowl quickly.

"Honestly, Merlin, how many times have I told you to go easy when it comes to alcohol? What if something were to happen? How would you be able to respond? You're better off remaining sober."

"Oh, sorry Gaius," said 'Merlin'. Geez, he thought, he's taking this whole 'I'm Merlin' thing to extremes this morning.

"Oh, it's alright. Now, be careful this morning. Boar hunting is dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt. Now, off with you. Arthur will be expecting you."

"Thanks Gaius," he said, rather touched. Who would have thought the old man cared so much about his wellbeing?

"And tame that hair of yours, it looks like you've been rolling around on it for hours."

As he left, Arthur paused to look in the mirror. And blinked his eyes blearily when he saw… no it couldn't be… oh Gods. He put his hands to his head and ran them through what he now realised was hair much shorter and curlier than his own. And black. Gods, he thought as he saw the angular face and blue eyes staring back at him. He was Merlin. This was no trick. He was Merlin. He and Merlin really had been swapped.

"You have got to be kidding me," he said.


	5. Day 3 Part 2

**Day 3...Part 2**

"You have got to be kidding me," said Arthur flatly as he viewed his lean white visage in the mirror. He looked down and realised what he had been too hungover to notice before. He was about the same height but half the width, with long legs and arms and a useless neckerchief tied around his neck. Hang on, when did that get there?

He looked around and saw Gaius looking at him, all confused concern.

"What's the matter boy?" he said.

"Um, I don't know, How about, I look like Merlin."

"Don't be ridiculous. You are Merlin."

"Ah no, I'm Arthur. Merlin and I swapped, remember?"

"What is this, some new excuse to get out of cleaning the leech tank? I told you, Arthur did a terrible job but I didn't have the heart to tell him. You'll have to clean it again."

"No, you're not listening. I'm Arthur. Merlin and I swapped."

"Yes," said Gaius patiently, "you and Arthur swapped places until the Midwinter feast, than you swapped back. Enough with this foolishness. The real Arthur will be waiting for you. Now get on."

Arthur opened his mouth to argue but froze after the intake of breath. This was sorcery. It had to be. If he kept insisting he was Arthur, people might think he was responsible. He had to find out what had happened before he started yelling the 'm' word or it could be his head in the basket. Uther would have no qualms over executing what he thought was a mere servant.

"Merlin," he mumbled, thinking that if he was Merlin maybe Merlin was him. He had to find himself and quickly. This was going to get confusing.

"Yes, you're Merlin," said Gaius very slowly, drawing all the syllables out as though he was talking to a simpleton. "Well done. I guess you must have had more to drink last night than even I realised."

Arthur tried to replicate one of Merlin's idiotic grins and found his mouth move easily into the position.

"Yes of course; just got confused by the mead…and beer…and wine. I'll go now."

And he ran out of Gaius' chambers, past the strange flurry of activity in the courtyard (what on Earth was going on?) and raced straight to his chambers. He was nearly there when he was intercepted by Sir Leon.

"Merlin!" he yelled, "come here for a moment."

Oh great, he thought, one of his disloyal knights, probably still worshipping at the altar of Merlin.

"Yes Leon," he replied.

A small flit of amusement crossed Leon's face so Arthur was surprised when he said, "sorry boy, you've had your fun. It's Sir Leon from now on thank you very much. Arthur has cancelled today's boar hunt and confined himself to his quarters and now there's this disturbance in the courtyard. Uther has ordered the miscreant jailed. We can't find out what's happened to your master and you're the only one he usually talks to in these situations. If you could find out what's wrong…?"

"Oh, of course," was all he could respond. Do I really only talk to Merlin? He looked back on the last few months and supposed that it was true. How strange that he never realised. "I'll go straight to his chambers."

"Thanks boy," he turned around in a whirl of cape and then stopped for a moment and looked back, "I know there are things we don't talk about in Camelot but, I just wanted to say…after everything that happened in the Throne Room recently…well I'm glad he has you. And what you did for him this week, cheering him up with this ridiculous swap, well I'm grateful. And I'm not the only one, even if we can't ever tell you…even if I have to deny that I just did."

Arthur just nodded, stunned, and then turned on his heel toward the room.

Not even stopping to knock, he burst into his chambers to find, well, himself, sitting at the table writing on a piece of parchment.

"Merlin!" he gasped, "please tell me you're Merlin."

"Yes I am, please tell me you're Arthur."

"Yes, I am."

"Oh, thank the Gods, I was sitting here terrified I didn't have a body to go back to. And I must have my body back and soon."

And he put his head back down and kept writing.

"A sentiment I completely agree with, Merlin. Now, this is obviously a spell of some kind but I don't know anything else."

"I agree," Merlin looked up, "but I'm not sure who would cast it or why."

"Who knows why sorcerers do what they do. We have to go to my father together and try to explain to him what's happened before he wants you to…"

"No!" shouted Merlin, "you can't," and this finally distracted him from his pen scratchings.

"Well, why not? Now he thinks you and I have swapped back he's going to come out from his chambers and expect you to do the things Crown Prince's do. As much as you may not think so, judging from the last few days, you can't do those things even if you do have my body."

"Do you think I don't know that?" said Merlin, unexpectedly, "Oh, come on Arthur, it's not as if we really swapped. It's not as if we really had each other's lives. All we had were the things each of us did, not our responsibilities. And everyone knew we'd swapped because, well, we don't exactly look like each other."

"Seriously, if Mercia had invaded do you really think everyone would have said, 'Merlin's the Prince for the week, let him handle it.' I mean, really. It was fun, Arthur, but I only did it because you were so upset about you know, your mother and, what nearly happened with your father and, well, you were getting so closed off, so isolated. I only did it to get you to wake up a bit and remember that there are other people around you with lives."

Arthur tried to absorb that thought, combining it mentally with what Sir Leon had just said. Gods, he thought, and I always called _him_ the idiot.

"Then why can't we tell him? I mean, if I went in there by myself looking like you and rabbitting on about being me, he'd probably chop my head off just for the fun of it. But if you're there, he's more likely to listen."

"Hanging, probably."

"What?"

"He'd probably hang you. That's what he last threatened me with."

"My father threatened to hang you?"

"If I told anyone about what happened between you, yeah. That was after he thanked me for being a trusted ally in the fight against magic. It was a strange day."

"No," continued Merlin, "the reason we can't tell him is because he'll take one look at me in your body and decide it's part of some scheme to disrupt the Kingdom and undermine his authority and he'll throw both of us in the cells. And I _have_ to have my body back and soon."

And he began tapping the parchment he was writing on, obviously distracted by whatever it was he'd been writing.

"Well then, we have to find a way to reverse the spell," said Arthur.

"Yes, but I can't do that right now," said Merlin and he hunched back over the paper in front of him.

"But you just said…what on Earth could be more important than finding a way to get back into our own bodies? Merlin? Merlin, what are you doing?"

"I have to write it. I look like you. Otherwise she won't know it's me and I can't bear the thought of that."

"Write what? Merlin? Merlin, what are you writing?'

"A love poem," he responded breathlessly, his wide eyes earnest, and he bent back down over the parchment.

"A love…? What? Why? To whom?"

"To Morgana."

"Morgana! Merlin, I know you have had some affection for her but is this really the time to be…?"

"Affection? Oh no, I had no affection for her," he said, putting down his pen, "but this morning I realised, I realised I love her. More than life, more than death, more than anything. I love her," he exclaimed.

"You…_love_… Morgana…as of…this morning."

"Yes, I woke up and I just knew. She is my light, my love. She is my moon-drenched night, my white-flecked raven, the pure unicorn and wild black stallion all in one true form of beauty."

"There's no such thing as a white-flecked raven," he said bluntly and instantly regretted it as Merlin turned a tortured gaze upon him.

"Right. Ok, I'm going to leave you to it then, shall I?"

Merlin nodded his gratitude.

"Thank you. I'll help reverse the spell; I just need to finish this first. I need to get it right."

Arthur backed slowly toward the door wondering if there was some bizarre connection between their body swap and Merlin's sudden wild romantic interest in Uther's ward. There had to be, but what?

A thought hit him and before he left he said, "Oh Merlin?"

"Yes Arthur."

"Probably best to get it absolutely perfect before you, you know, tell her how you feel. Don't want her thinking you're, you know, me."

"Of course, I will work on it without pause until it is perfection. When she hears the wounded cry of my heart, she'll feel the same way, I'm sure."

"Ah, yes…yes, I'm…sure she will. Right, I'll, go then, shall I? Um, good luck?"

And he backed out the door leaving Merlin to his madness.


	6. Day 3 Part 3

**Day 3... Part 3**

Right, he thought, no help there.

"Merlin!"

He turned around, oddly thankful for the two day's training of answering to his servant's name. It was Sir Leon again and this time he looked agitated.

"Merlin, did you have any luck in coaxing Arthur out of his quarters? Did you find out what troubles him?"

"Ah no," he said, pausing while his brain raced to make up the best lie, "he refused to tell me and he seems to have no intention of leaving any time soon. He's demanded that a guard be set up outside his room so no one may enter."

And just in case someone should try to get in to see 'Arthur', he added, "if I didn't know better I'd think he was in love."

"In love," exclaimed Leon with disgust, "he's got no time for that. Lancelot has returned to Camelot and has been arrested by Uther for sorcery."

"What? I know Lancelot. He is no sorcerer."

"I know Arthur has always thought him honourable, as have I. But there were so many witnesses it cannot be contested. Lancelot appeared in the castle's main courtyard out of thin air...naked."

"Naked?" repeated Arthur, "why would any evil sorcerer arrive in such a fashion?"

"Why would any sorcerer allow toads to come out of his mouth?" countered Leon, "who knows why sorcerers do what they do?"

"Yes," said Arthur thinking of two other strange incidents that had happened that morning, "why indeed? What time was this? When Lancelot appeared?"

"Witnesses all say it was just after sunrise."

"Thank you, Sir Leon. I will report this to Arthur."

"Thank you, Merlin. Now I must be away. The guards are having trouble with a woman in the lower town. She's standing in the streets yelling that she's actually a man who just likes wearing dresses."

"And I thought Camelot was insane yesterday," muttered Arthur as he turned on his heel and made straight for the dungeons. "Well, Merlin, how much do you want to bet that Lancelot has no idea how he wound up naked in Camelot? Oh Gods, I'm referring to my body by another name. I need to find out what's happening and quickly."

He traversed the staircases down into the dungeon, astonished when the guards simply nodded to him and let him through.

"Merlin," acknowledged one of them, "visiting the prisoner are you?"

"Ah yes."

"Thought so. Between you and me, I don't think he's guilty. But he wouldn't be the first innocent man in Uther's cells now, would he?"

They'd laughed and Arthur's original burst of fury faded. Gwen's father, Gaius, Gwen herself. Unfortunately, they were right. And to his astonishment, he found himself saying, "don't worry, if he's innocent Arthur and I will make sure he's freed."

"We know you will, Merlin," stated the other guard matter-of-factly. "No more fake witchfinders in this kingdom thanks to you and Arthur. That was my wife he drugged so she would see magic that wasn't there. She was terrified."

"Hmm," grunted the first, "got what he deserved did that bastard sorcerer."

Hmm," the other joined him in solidarity.

Arthur was consequently in a somewhat reflective mood when he made his way to Lancelot's cell.

"Oh Merlin, thank the Gods," said Lancelot as he came to his cell. "I know it's not the most honourable path to take but please just get me out of here. Uther is hardly my advocate on the best of days, let alone when it appears I practice sorcery."

Arthur decided to ignore for the moment the implication that somehow _Merlin_ could rescue Lancelot from his cell and concentrate on more important issues, such as what had happened.

"I don't know, Merlin, I swear. I was in the rare position of having a bed for a night in an inn at a busy crossroads three Kingdoms away. I bathed for once and lay down to sleep, taking advantage of my unexpected privacy to launder my clothes, all of which were soiled from the road."

"So that's why you were naked?" intervened Arthur.

"Yes. I lay down to bed and slept the first good night's sleep for many moons and when I awoke I felt a wave of dizziness and found myself suddenly exposed in the main square of Camelot.

"Before I could even fathom where I was, let alone what misfortune had surmounted me, someone yelled 'sorcerer' and the guards surrounded me. I'm afraid in my confusion I tried to fight them, wounding several of them before I was finally overcome."

"I know it is the strangest tale, Merlin, but..." began Lancelot.

"Trust me," Arthur reassured him, "it's not the craziest story I've heard today."

"Now Merlin, please, do one of your," and Lancelot waved his hand, "_tricks _and get me out of here."

"One of my... _tricks_?" asked Arthur.

"Yes, you know."

"My _tricks_," repeated Arthur, wondering what on Earth Lancelot was talking about.

"Oh, of course, once again your course of action is correct," said Lancelot, "if I escape now people will know it was you that assisted me. I would not put you in that sort of danger. Very well, I will stay here until you find the sorcerer who did this and I will be freed by the proper process."

"Well, that does sound wise. Now Lancelot, there's something you should know..."

* * *

Arthur walked back to Gaius' hoping that he was right in taking Lancelot's advice. Still, he and Merlin seemed to know each other surprisingly well so perhaps it was wise to listen to him. As he walked through the hallways, he noticed one thing that was definitely absent from when he was the fake Merlin. Then, everyone had acknowledged him, sharing in the joke that was their swap. Now it was as though he was invisible. Arthur had wondered how Merlin had managed to move around the castle freely during Queen Catrina's reign. Now he understood. Unless they knew him, they did not notice him.

He walked into Gaius' chambers and his heart fell when he realised the physician was not there. Although Gaius had long been Uther's trusted advisor; one of his 'allies in the fight against magic', Lancelot had assured him that Gaius would keep this secret for as long as Arthur needed him to and would be able to help him find the cure.

He'd spent the walk here rehearsing again and again what he would say only to find that Gaius was absent.

"Gods, what do I do now?" he thought out loud, "a body swap, a love spell, a translocation, what do they have in common? Merlin, why are you so useless the one time I need you?"

"Merlin!" a voice yelled behind him. How many times a day did Merlin have people yelling for him? It was really getting annoying.

Or not, he thought, as he turned around and realised it was Gwen, looking lovely with a purple dress and corset, her hair bound loosely round her head with soft ringlets framing her light chocolate skin and...concentrate Arthur, you're supposed to be Merlin.

"Gwen," he greeted her.

"Merlin, something terrible is happening in Camelot and it's my fault, Well, it's not my fault, well some of it is my fault, one part of it is my fault, I..."

"Gwen, what's going on?" he interrupted.

"Lots of things. There's a dressmaker on Baker Street, he's the only male dressmaker in Camelot, which is unusual in itself. Mostly seamstresses are women. He makes lots of dresses that he doesn't need to, you know, that he doesn't have a buyer for. People, well, people say things about him. That he likes to, you know... that a lot of these dresses seem to be made, well, in his size."

"Oh," said Arthur, a whole new world opening up before him, "right."

"But he's sweet and harmless so nobody minds but this morning, well, he's been turned into a woman."

"What?"

"He woke up this morning and he was a woman.

"He wouldn't be making a scene on the streets of the lower town, would he?"

"Yes, oh, I guess you heard some of the guards talking. See, he likes wearing dresses sometimes but it doesn't mean he wanted to be a woman. And now everyone knows and it's, well, it's..."

"Gwen, how is this your fault?"

"Oh, it's not, but I... oh Merlin, if I tell you this, would you promise not to tell Arthur? I was so angry at him last night and he said...anyway, please."

And Arthur hesitated for only a second before he gave her the lie she needed to hear to tell him what he needed to know.

"It's Lancelot."

"Lancelot!"

"Yes, I, oh this is so humiliating. I was at that feast last night and I was so angry at you and Arthur for your ridiculous life swap. Playing at being the peasant and the prince when nothing you experienced could be real. Everyone having a big joke at everyone else's expense. It was all so pointless. It was like that time Arthur pretended to disappear so he could compete anonymously in that tournament. He's so determined to not be himself but nobody can do that, it's impossible."

"Gwen."

"Sorry, I, I was standing there and I was talking to this servant girl and she suggested that maybe I wanted to be elsewhere or maybe I wanted someone else to be here and just for one moment I thought... I wished... that Lancelot were here."

"You wished Lancelot was in Camelot?"

"Well, I didn't really wish he was here, just like Tom Treathe didn't _really_ want to be a woman. I mean, if he was here he'd have to find work and it's possible Uther wouldn't let him be a Knight and it would be awkward what with Arthur and everything and... the point is, it was just a thought but it came true."

And Arthur remembered he had thought, just for one moment that his life would be easier if he was Merlin. Of course, it all made sense. Except for Merlin being in love with Morgana, how did that happen?"

"It's sorcery," said Arthur out loud and to his surprise Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Well, of course it's sorcery Merlin, what are you going to do about it?"

"What... what am _I_ going to do about it?" As illogical as it was, Arthur found himself rather annoyed. Surely Guinevere should be running to him with crises like this. I mean, she was running to him but she didn't know that.

"Why is this my responsibility? We should tell Arthur," he found himself saying, "he'll know what to do".

"Come on Merlin, stop arguing. You know how this works; we've been through this before. Brawn later. Right now we need the brains. When we need someone killed or shouted at we'll let Arthur know."

"Gwen," he started hesitantly, thinking it was time this charade ended, "I think there's something you need to know."

* * *

It was a few hours later. Gwen had thankfully finished yelling at him and they were taking advantage of Gaius' books to try and explain what had happened. He'd told her about the swap and Merlin's sudden obsession with Morgana.

"It's like you said," he'd explained, "I don't really want to be Merlin, I just thought, just for a brief second, that it would easier if I was."

"It's almost like it's some sort of sick joke," she said.

"What do you mean?"

"It's like, someone picked some deep random thoughts from our hearts and made them real because they thought it was funny. Even if I wished Lancelot here, I would not wish him deposited in the courtyard naked. Do you remember what you said when you and Merlin were telling everyone about the swap? You said it was a..."

"A midwinter joke; a reversal of fortunes for the people's amusement," finished Arthur thoughtfully.

"Well, it's like that. Only funny if nobody takes it seriously."

"I see what you mean. Well, it looks like I'm not so useless in the brain department after all."

She smiled slightly, embarrassed. "I'm sorry about that. Sometimes Merlin needs some encouragement to activate his natural heroism. You should have seen him argue when I told him it was his responsibility to expose Valiant's snakes. But he came round in the end and Valiant's magic was there for all of Camelot to see. I don't know how he did it, of course, but then I don't know how he managed to prove Aredian was a sorcerer either."

"Are you telling me that Valiant's snakes appeared early in our fight because of something Merlin did?"

"Of course," she said, "I assumed you knew. It was either that or watch you die. We couldn't let Valiant get away with it."

"Incredible." He slammed the book he had been reading shut. "This is hopeless. What we need to do is find the sorcerer and force them to undo the spell. It's the only way."

Gwen giggled, "and we should probably do it before Merlin takes your body to declare his undying love for Morgana."

"Oh no," said Arthur, realising how many hours had passed, "Merlin!"

He and Gwen ran through the castle to his own chambers, only to be informed by inappropriately-amused guards that the Prince had finished his love poem and had just gone to deliver it.

"Oh no," he groaned and he and Gwen pursued him, hoping he was not too far ahead. They arrived at Morgana's rooms to find the door slightly ajar and Morgana standing in something akin to terror while 'Arthur' grovelled at her feet.

"Merlin," she said, in relief, "what on Earth is going on? Arthur just burst in here and started babbling about his eternal love for me. What..?"

"Well, at least it's an improvement," Arthur couldn't stop himself saying, "before he was telling me how you were his moon-kissed night or something."

Morgana went pale and looked down at the man who appeared to be kissing her feet.

"Merlin?" she asked.

Merlin looked up at her, hope blazing on his face, "you recognise me, you know who I am even though I am trapped in this body. I knew even a new face could not disguise our true souls. I knew the love that blazed out of me would burn the scales from your eyes and you would see my true visage, my true heart that beats only for you, my raven-haired beauty."

"Wow," remarked Gwen, "I think I've been looking for a man in the wrong place."

"I swear," declared Arthur, "when all this is over, I'm going to kill him."


	7. Day 3 still

**Day 3... still**

Arthur didn't know what was worse. The fact that Merlin was clasping Morgana's hands between his as he recited his 'Ode to Beauty in Female Form' for the third time; the fact that he'd tried to interrupt and Morgana had shooshed him, telling him that Merlin was about to compare her eyes to a wind-tossed stream after a summer storm (apparently her favourite part); or the fact that Gwen had her hands clasped in front of her face, regularly making excited exclamations such as 'ooh, that's so romantic' and 'he has the soul of a poet', and even, 'there is no man in Camelot to compare to his beauty'.

"_His_ beauty," he found himself saying, "that's my beauty. He stole it!"

"Inner beauty, Arthur," she scolded him, "I'm talking about the beauty that shines through regardless of external appearance or the pointless trappings of wealth."

There was no way that last statement wasn't a dig at him. He was sure of it. He opened his mouth to ask where Lancelot fit in to the increasingly-long list of men she admired on a rotating basis but wisely shut it in time. He had no desire for her to yell at him again.

As Merlin finally concluded with his 'wild black stallion' analogy, which even Arthur had to admit was pretty good, he interrupted to get the afternoon back on track.

"Morgana," he started, ignoring the furious glare from Merlin, who had obviously been planning to begin his ode again. Seeing the determined look on Arthur's face, he instead began passionately kissing her hands.

"Morgana, as you can see a sorcerer is at work in Camelot. We need to find out what happened to Merlin and somehow I don't think he's entirely rational at the moment."

Morgana looked resigned and a little reticent and then addressed Merlin.

"Merlin, would you do me a favour?"

Merlin looked up in pure joy at her words. "A task? A task to prove my love?"

"Yes, would you get me an apple?"

"An apple?" said Arthur, "Morgana, it's midwinter."

"Do you want him distracted or not?" she whispered back fiercely.

"No, Arthur, it's alright," said Merlin worshipfully, "an apple in midwinter will prove my love more than a simpler task. I will go immediately, not resting till I get you this fruit to assuage your hunger. And then you'll see my love is real and grant me one sweet kiss."

"Ah, Merlin," added Morgana, before he could sweep out the room, "it has to be an apple from Camelot. I don't want you trying to set sail to buy one off the Moors or something."

Merlin's face fell and Arthur realised with horror that that had actually been his plan.

"Oh sweet Mercy," he breathed, "let us find a way to reverse this and quickly."

Morgana waited until the door closed behind her body-swapped admirer and turned her back staring down at the floor. "I think, I think it's my fault," she said softly. "I don't know how but I did this."

"What? What are you talking about? A sorcerer did this and it's not the only strange thing they've done today, let me tell you. I'm in Merlin's body!"

"No, I can't tell you, it's embarrassing."

"Morgana, I apparently want to be my own manservant and there's a naked former knight of Camelot in the cells because Gwen here is in love with a different man each week."

"Hey!" said Gwen, offended.

"Small thoughts we barely even realised we had are being made solid before our eyes and I need to know why."

"Well," said Morgana, "it started with the letter."

"Letter? What letter?" asked Arthur but Gwen went, "oh."

"It was about two weeks ago," she began, and she walked over to her drawers and pulled out a small envelope tied with string and a piece of dried lavender. "A knight wrote me this love letter. It was terrible and Merlin and I were laughing about how bad it was. Gwen told me it was the thought that counted."

"Oh, I've completely changed my mind about that," interjected Gwen, earnestly, "since about oh, half an hour ago."

"_Any_way," prompted Arthur, hoping he never again heard about Merlin's inner beauty.

"Well, Merlin jokingly said even he could do better and so I dared him to." She handed him the small envelope, "He wrote me this."

Arthur, knowing he would already be forever scarred by his insight into Merlin's wild romantic soul, opened the envelope and read it through.

"Wow," he said simply, "I've got to hand it to him. That is beautiful. And oh, he's used moon-drenched night in here as well. That's how you knew it was him."

"I mean, it was only a joke," Morgana said, "it's not like either of us meant it but the letter was so beautiful that I kept it and, well, I read it yesterday again before the feast.

"I've felt so disconnected lately, alone I guess; lonely. Merlin's the only one who's really noticed but he's so busy. I even thought this stupid swap of his was a way to cheer me up. And it did.

"So, one of your idiot knights propositioned me at the feast and I'd just read that letter and, well, Merlin and I have had so much fun the last few days and I saw him and I thought, just for one brief moment, I thought…"

She took a deep breath and forced herself to finish.

"I thought it would be nice if, just once in my life, instead of some arrogant bully who thinks beheading things is a normal day's work, if instead it could be a man like Merlin who fell in love with me. I was thinking about the letter at the time and I thought, how nice it would be to have someone like that love me."

There was silence in the room as Arthur adjusted to Morgana's admission of feeling alone. He'd noticed she was slightly morose of course, but to think she was that lonely...

"Wait," said Gwen, a look of excitement building up on her face, "when you had this thought about Merlin, did you just think it or did you say it?"

"I, I think I said it. I was talking to..."

"...a girl, a servant girl, called Bella. One you've never seen before," said Gwen, finishing Morgana's sentence.

"Yes," she breathed, "she had blonde hair..."

"...straight," added Arthur, "blue eyes and rosy cheeks; very pretty."

They looked around at each other for a moment.

"It was her," said Arthur, "she talked to each of us, taking our minds where she wanted us to go, trying to get us to admit something we usually wouldn't. We have to find her."

"Merlin!" yelled Sir Leon and he burst into Morgana's room. Arthur had never seen the Knight so flustered; even Uther's threat of execution when he had dared to tell the King his wife was a troll had not affected him so badly.

"Oh Merlin, thank the Gods," he said, coming up to Arthur.

"I know it's inappropriate, I know I should not come to you but when these things happen you always seem the one to keep his head and it's all too much."

"Sir Leon, what's happened?"

"Tom Treathe, the man that was turned into a woman. He's decided that, while he waits to turn back into a man, he may as well enjoy things as they are. He's putting on fashion parades in the lower town with himself as the main model. Some of his creations are quite revealing and, well, he turned into such a _large_ woman..."

"Leon!"

"Sorry, Merlin, well, that seems to have resolved himself, except that a few fights have broken out between some men who have been somewhat aroused by Tom's...voluptuousness...but..."

"Leon!"

"Gwyffyd Black and Jemima Baker. They're 9 years old and yesterday they agreed to marry when they grew up and apparently they expressed a wish that that day would come quickly and when they woke up this morning they were 10 years older and, well, in the same bed and naked, and Jemima's parents are insisting on wedlock since there's a possibility she may have conceived and Gwyffyd's parents seem to think it's an evil plot for the Baker's to get control of their leather-making business and..."

"...and the blacksmith's wife apparently told the butcher's wife that she was an ugly toad because apparently the blacksmith had been looking at the butcher's wife and now the butcher woke up this morning with a toad in his bed instead of his wife, who incidentally does actually _look like __a toad_, but anyway he's insisting the blacksmith be executed for sorcery and the blacksmith seems to think the butcher and his wife concocted the situation so the blacksmith's wife can run off with the butcher after both their spouses have been gotten rid of and..."

He took a deep breath, "...and two of Lancelot's guards have locked themselves in his cell with the keys and they're refusing to come out until Uther issues a decree that no innocent man will ever again be put to death in the Kingdom, and the King has not emerged from his chambers at all today. Gaius was summoned and he went in and now he has not re-emerged and the King's chambers remained locked to all. If that was not bad enough, the Prince appears to be in the apple orchard crying because the trees are dead. We cannot get a word of sanity from him. He says only that as well as love he has also lost his destiny because he cannot make the trees bloom."

At the last one, Arthur had cast a rather angry glance at Morgana who looked slightly ashamed at least.

"Merlin, what do I do?" cried Leon.

"Morgana," Arthur addressed her, "Gwen and I will try to find the source of this disruptive magic. I need you to go the Great Hall and convene a council. Summon the Knights and guards of Camelot for instructions. We need to demonstrate to the people that there is still some order in Camelot and you are the only face of authority we can show right now. We will meet you there in two hours and advise you of our success. By then it will be dark and we should implement a curfew to get people off the streets."

"Leon, go with Morgana and help her get the knights and guards together. Lend her any assistance she requires. Alright?"

Leon gave a relieved sigh, grateful to once again be receiving orders.

"Yes, Merlin. Thank you, Merlin. I knew I could rely on you." He swirled out of the room with his red cape and Morgana not far behind.

"If bloody Merlin gets the credit for this I swear..." muttered Arthur then stopped when he saw a furious look from Gwen... "I swear... that... it will only be justice for... all the times he's...helped...me without recognition or gratitude?"

Gwen smiled slightly, a pleased expression on her face.

"Now where will we find this sorcerer, Bella?"

* * *

**I'm having so much fun with the irony that people finally realise Merlin's worth when he's actually Arthur. **

**In case you were wondering, the love letter mentioned in this is the same one I devised for A Lion and a Unicorn. I thought these two stories weren't mutually exclusive so I used the same letter. This puts this story about a year before Morgana's dream at the beginning of A Lion and a Unicorn. **


	8. Day 4

**Day 4**

It was after midnight but no one could sleep. Morgana had risen to the occasion magnificently, as Arthur should have known she would. She had commanded the knights and guards as though she had been trained to rule since birth. Arthur thought - because in this mad world of some crazed sorcerer's creation he was allowed to - that it was a tragedy for her that she had not been born a man. And then he thought, should it matter that she was not?

His mind was full of questions. Questions that had on some occasion flitted through his brain but he had never allowed himself to ask. Questions that the presence of his father and his duty had quashed before they formed in his brain. And now the things that had defined him were both absent; their gaping hole being filled as he sat there in the Great Hall facing an empty wall waiting for a tapestry that Uther had commissioned. What did it represent? A victory in battle? How pointless.

This was why he had envied Merlin, he realised. Not because his life was easy, but because his mind was free. Merlin asked questions; Arthur had been taught that he had been born with all the answers. Yet some part of him had always known that those so-called answers were not enough.

Morgana stood before him, the great empty wall behind her, staring at the door. Gwen sat vigilantly by his side. He held her hand. The curfew was in force but the guards and knights had their work cut out as the madness of realised desires coursed through Camelot. What had Gwen said? It was funny until you realised it wasn't.

And then he smiled, thinking of Merlin and his love poetry. He snickered. Some of it was funny. "White-flecked raven," he said, "Hah!"

Morgana tried to keep her mouth straight but a laugh burst out of her before being quickly stifled. Arthur looked at Gwen and she too struggled with suppressed hilarity. And before they knew it, they were all laughing like fools. Like jokers. Like tricksters. The world was mad and this spell had proved it. It was laugh or...

"Oh Gods," said Arthur finally, "Merlin's face when you sent him after an apple. I have never, in my life, seen such unrestrained joy. Oh, to see him when the spell is reversed."

"Don't laugh at him," said Gwen, fighting hysterics, "he has no control over himself."

"Leon said he was crying in the orchard. Oh, poor Merlin," managed Arthur, tears now rolling down his face. "Honestly, Morgana, if we can't find this Bella soon you're going to have to take pity on the poor lovestruck boy."

"And don't deny you think him as adorable as I do," Gwen ordered Morgana, between sharp intakes of air, "because I know you do."

"Oh Lord," said Morgana, struggling to both speak and stop the laughter before it could bubble out of her, "I can't believe he was ready to sail to warmer climes for that ridiculous piece of fruit."

"The disappointment on his face when you told him it had to be from Camelot," finished Arthur, "oh," and hilarity stopped, "oh Gods, the world is mad."

He sighed. "We looked everywhere we could think. We could not see this Bella. She probably left Camelot as soon as her work was done."

"No." Morgana shook her head. "There's too much chaos but no death. She wanted the laugh. She's here, viewing her handiwork. She has to be. Otherwise for her there would be no point."

Arthur nodded and opened his mouth, "..."

"Morgana!" Merlin burst through the door, ignoring Arthur and Gwen and moving swiftly over to his love; his blonde hair, even features and rippling muscles sitting uneasily with the loping awkward gait he seemed to have retained.

He walked up to her in the middle of the Great Hall and triumphantly handed her a bright green apple. She stared at it in shock and Arthur knew that his current more-malleable features reflected that emotion.

"Where...how...?" he asked, seeing that Morgana was speechless.

'Oh, Bella made one of the trees fruit," he said offhandedly.

"Bella!" Arthur stood up, still tall as ever but painfully aware he was nowhere near as commanding. "Where is the sorceress? She will reverse this spell."

"Well, of course she will," said Merlin, turning to him and looking as though he couldn't believe Arthur's stupidity. "I told her how upset I was by everything and she agreed to change us back. Well, I did ask for the apple first but the spell second." He turned back to Morgana and kissed the inside of her palm.

Arthur stood there for a moment and then grabbed a sword, feeling the strange weight of it on his skinny arms.

"Where is she?" he demanded, angrily. He knew how to deal with sorcerers. You yelled at them and then you killed them. You...

Bella walked in and looked disinterestedly at the sword. Merlin walked over and took it out of Arthur's hand. "Now, Arthur, don't kill the nice lady who's here to help us."

"Nice? Lady? What?"

"Merlin has asked me to reverse this spell and I have agreed. Is this what you want as well, Prince Arthur?"

"Yes," growled Arthur, "of course it is. Let's stop this madness."

"Very well," she agreed and Arthur felt a wave of dizziness. He closed his eyes and when he re-opened him he felt the dislocating pleasure of once again seeing Merlin across from him. He looked down at his muscled arms and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thank the Gods," he sighed, as Merlin loped off toward Morgana. Probably apologising for the embarrassment, he thought.

"I don't understand, Bella. Why did you cast the spell only to lift it?"

She smiled enigmatically and turned to leave.

"Bella!" he yelled after her, grabbing the sword once more; determined to find answers.

"Your sword and threats have no affect on me, Arthur. This is my story," she said to him and turned to smile, "and my name is not really Bella, But you, you can call me Anansi."

And she said not a word nor made a gesture but simply disappeared before his eyes.

"Damnit," he exclaimed, feeling like a fool brandishing a sword at thin air.

"Merlin," he said, twisting to face his manservant now in his usual tall lanky frame, "where did you find... oh Gods no."

Because Merlin was once again staring adoringly into Morgana's eyes, whispering something about finally being whole and able to worship her as she deserved to be worshipped. A horrible thought gripped Arthur and he rather nervously drew the man's attention.

"Um, Merlin?" he began, his worst fears seemingly confirmed as Merlin moved behind Morgana and rested his head on her shoulder, his arms linking around her stomach. "I'm very grateful to be back in my own body but... um... did you ask Bella to reverse the other spells?"

And he almost couldn't believe his own stupidity as Merlin, between placing soft kisses on Morgana's neck, asked innocently "what other spells?"

"Oh," said Arthur tiredly, "you have got to be kidding me."

* * *

**Ok, something weird happened to Chapter 8 and then my whole story disappeared. Just reposting now. I know, it's a short chapter but this just seemed like a natural place to end it.**


	9. Day 4 Part 2

**Day 4... Part 2**

Arthur sat in the corner, his head in his hands, wishing that his father was here. Someone to take over, to make the decisions, somebody to tell him what to do. He looked at Merlin, who'd decided to claim his kiss for the apple and bore a disturbing resemblance to somebody who knew what he was doing. Where on Earth did Merlin learn how to kiss? Morgana had obviously decided to just go with the flow and was rather too enthusiastically kissing him back. Gwen was sitting nearby, watching open-mouthed and trying to pretend that she wasn't watching open-mouthed.

What do I usually do in these bizarre situations? And a small voice he wanted to ignore said, Merlin usually tells you what to do. And he realised suddenly that it was Merlin's insight he was most missing. If his father were here, he'd be in the lower town with the guards trying to execute everybody. Bella's, _Anansi's_, power was obviously so great that that was not the solution. People who'd allowed themselves small secret thoughts in their soul should not be punished for merely being human.

As he sat there, allowing himself the breakdown he felt he, by all rights, should have been allowed hours ago, Sir Percival ran into the hall.

"My Lord," he yelled, and skidded to a halt in front of Arthur, "I am in desperate need of some money. Can you lend it to me? I swear to return it with interest as soon as I am able."

"Why on Earth do you want money? It's not yet dawn. What can there possibly be for you to buy?"

Arthur almost instantly regretted asking the question as Sir Percival turned starry eyes upon him.

"On of Tom's most brilliant creations," he breathed in excitement. His hands were thrown up behind his face and he positively pranced as he extolled the virtues of the dress. "It has this incredible sweeping line down to the ground and a small set of frills down the front. You wear it with a corset, it gives the most incredible bust line, and it is a perfect scarlet red. Nothing I have ever seen would go so well with my complexion. Tom has refused to sell it, but I know that if I offer him a sufficient amount he will be coaxed to part with it."

Arthur stared somewhat in shock at his Knight. He had heard a few rumours about Percival of course but had never imagined that...

To his plummeting level of comfort, Percival added, his eyes downcast in shyness, "maybe when I buy it I could wear it and you can see how wonderful it is. Maybe we could dine together one night...?"

I'm being propositioned by one of my Knights, thought Arthur, I'm...

And he looked at Percival's shy hopefulness, merely smiled and handed him a small purse. It was hardly a crime after all. "Of course," he responded gently, "that would be lovely."

Percival smiled like an excited child and skipped off to town. And Arthur thought, if he remembers this he will be humiliated. This has to stop. Now.

"Merlin," he commanded and Merlin stopped what he was doing and looked around. He seemed surprised to find Arthur in the room but then he had been rather absorbed in what he was doing. His arms stayed wrapped around Morgana's waist and he attended to Arthur as he continued to kiss her softly. The love spell seemed to have entered a remarkably amorous phase, Arthur decided. Definitely time for this farce to end.

"Merlin, it seems that you have the ability to find this sorcerer. I need you to do so."

"Um... no," replied Merlin definitely and he began nibbling Morgana's neck.

"Merlin!" He was starting to get angry now but Morgana threw him a warning glance.

"Merlin, darling," she said and disengaged herself from his arms, "I really need you to find this woman. She has cast some other spells in Camelot, some that have hurt or embarrassed people."

"Other spells?" asked Merlin, confused, "what other spells?"

"One of them has caused Gwen a lot of pain," lied Morgana in a sudden burst of inspiration. He may have lost his sanity but he was still Merlin.

"My sweet, kind-hearted, Gwen?" exclaimed Merlin.

"Yes," said Arthur, finally twigging to what Morgana was doing, "Gwen needs us to find this sorcerer and quickly."

"If you do," said Morgana, capturing his eyes with hers and providing the final inducement, "you will be rewarded."

"Yes," he replied eagerly, "I will do this for my sweet Gwen, and when I return you and I will find the rapturous bliss that can only come when two become one... mind, soul and body."

"Well, I was mostly thinking of another kiss," said Morgana, "but ok."

"Morgana!" exclaimed Arthur and she grinned in a way he could only describe as evil, as Merlin once again swept with purpose from the room.

"There will be no_ rapturous bliss_ in my Court!"

"Well, of course not," she said, "once he finds this Bella the spells will be reversed and he'll be Merlin again, with absolutely no interest in me, at least in that way."

"I'm making damn sure he gets this love spell broken then," yelled Arthur as he made to follow Merlin.

He went out into the corridor and called for Merlin to stop.

"Merlin, make sure you ask her to break _all _the spells, including the love spell."

"Love spell?" said Merlin, looking concerned. "Is someone under the influence of a love spell?"

"Oh Gods," exclaimed Arthur, "yes Merlin, someone is under a love spell."

"You should be careful then," he said, looking worried. "I'd stay away from them if I were you."

"Why?"

"People under love spells aren't in love. Not really. Real love takes time, it takes work. Love spells create obsession. Nothing penetrates but your need to possess the object of your so-called affection. Real love means you want the other person to be happy. A love spell means you are so blinded by your own needs you only want the person to be yours."

"It's like grief," he explained, "or anger. It blinds you with emotion, makes you completely self-absorbed. You isolate yourself, blocking out the rest of the world, eventually becoming incapable of seeing anybody else's lives as important."

"I'd stay away from someone under a love spell," he cautioned, "they could be dangerous. Like your father is."

Arthur took a brief shocked breath at the sudden realisation of what Merlin had just said.

"My father?"

"So blinded by his own losses and his own experiences that he can no longer see beyond himself."

Arthur closed his eyes as everything that had happened the last two days swam into focus. It couldn't be, he thought, it just couldn't.

"Merlin, last time you found this Anansi, she was in the apple orchard. Do you think that...?"

"Anansi?" said Merlin confused. "That's not her name."

"What do you mean?" asked Arthur.

"Anansi is a mythological being of the people who live in the continent of the Moors. He's a trickster. That's like calling her Nesreddin," and he laughed as though Arthur would have any clue what he meant.

"Nesreddin?"

"Another trickster, this time of the Turk and Arab tribes. He turns the world on its head, questions the status quo, the way those in power like to tell us things should be. Like I said, her name isn't Anansi."

He laughed again at Arthur's ignorance and walked off in search of her but now Arthur was sure he wouldn't find her. This was not for Merlin. And he finally knew what he had to do.


	10. Day 3 again

**Day 3... again**

Arthur walked slowly down to the apple orchard as dawn broke across the sky, though he realised suddenly that the place did not matter. As he strolled through the trees, he saw her standing there in her simple brown servant's robes. She was bringing forth spring blooms from the branches, their colours capturing the pink and yellow pre-dawn glow. It was extraordinarily beautiful.

She turned as she heard his approach.

"You are finally here," she said simply.

"You don't mean my body, do you?" he asked, "you mean here, in my heart."

"I would say mentally or perhaps emotionally, but I have been spending far too much time in the future lately. Too much counselling; not enough joy."

"I should have realised," he said grimly, "the minute Leon thanked Merlin; something a Knight would never do. The second Morgana, who guards her inner feelings with such fierceness, had the courage to admit to feeling alone. When Leon burst in and asked for Merlin's help; when the guards invaded Lancelot's cell even though they had not wished for anything. When Merlin broke from his spell long enough to explain to me why he had proposed the swap. He is rarely so eloquent, well," and he smiled wryly, "unless he is in love of course. It's like you said. This is your story."

"I do not lie, my Prince," she said, "I merely... nudged them to honesty."

"You must have thought me pretty stupid to get Merlin to tell me outright."

She laughed, "believe me, you're one of the smarter ones. There are some who have sat in my story for weeks and have still not learnt. I gave them more obvious clues than you. Some I had to simply explain everything to in the end."

"Are you some sort of God?"

"A God, a demigod, an anthropomorphised fear, a Jungian archetype. In the story, all are real.

"I am the source. I am Anansi, the spider who brought stories to this world. I am Nasreddin who confuses to teach. I am the Puca who plays. I am the raven, the coyote, the Heyoke. I am Loki, I am the leprechaun, I am Hermes and Eshu. I inspired Socrates' questions and mourned his death. I am Prometheus who took power from the powerful and gave it to those who had none before. I am in all times and in all places. I am Harvey, I am Q."

"The trickster," spoke Arthur.

"The Trickster," she agreed.

He closed his eyes for a moment, using the momentary quiet to think.

"It was Merlin, wasn't it? This swap? He told me I was getting isolated; that he wanted me to realise once again that there are people around me with lives."

"A joke to re-order the world; a confused madness to open your mind; a desire not to give you answers but to get you once again asking the questions: yes, it was Merlin who drew me here. His trick was like a beacon on the darkest night. It was well-intentioned but he does not have my skills so I... lent him my support. Not that he will ever know."

"And have I learnt my lesson?" he asked.

"I do not give answers, my Arthur," she replied, "I only help you see the questions. The rest is up to you."

And the world turned briefly and he felt the dizziness again. When he opened his eyes, he stood in the Great Hall, the serving girl who was so much more before him. And he understood why she'd taken this guise.

"So, I can survive without my father, I should spend more time noticing what's happening in the lives of the people around me, I should not underestimate anyone despite their status or gender and, when everything is falling apart around me, Merlin will always be there to help me know what to do. So maybe I should listen to him more."

She smiled and around him, shapes began to form, people in the midst of some sort of celebration; a feast. He saw Merlin take shape on the other side of the room; dressed like a Prince and laughing with his knights. He saw Gwen, tending to him, feigning happiness while inside she seethed. And he saw Morgana, as beautiful and as richly-dressed as ever, blank-faced in the corner surveying it all. Her eyes flicked to Merlin for just a moment but then they flicked back and she did not look again.

"But this is yesterday," he said, "are you telling me that all this never actually happened?"

"Time and space mean nothing to me," she answered him, though Arthur did not understand her words. "This happened and now it has not."

"So they won't remember? Merlin, Gwen, Morgana, poor Tom Treathe, Percival and Lancelot? The angry guards and Leon? They won't remember anything?"

"This was not their lesson. These were not their questions."

"And me? Will I remember? What's the point if I don't?"

"You will not remember here," and she reached out her hand to touch his head, a place he had never associated with thought.

"But you will remember here," and she placed one palm on his chest, covered once again in the clothes of a working peasant. "The knowledge is in you. It will change you."

"Now," she said and smiled sweetly, "wasn't there something you wanted to tell Merlin?"

"Um," Arthur shook his head, temporarily confused. Where was he? Oh, of course, he was at the feast. He'd just been complaining to Bella about the swap but somehow it all seemed unimportant now.

"Merlin?" he asked, still disoriented.

"Yes," said Bella with a giggle. She really was very pretty, if not entirely beautiful. "You just said you had something to say to him."

"Oh, of course," he smiled. "You're right. Excuse me."

He walked over to the table, placing his empty goblet on it as he weaved his way over to Merlin. A feather from his ridiculous hat fell onto his nose and he scuffed it off with annoyance.

"Merlin," he said quietly.

"My liege," instructed Caradoc. Of all the knights, he was the one obviously enjoying this the most. Arthur made a mental note. A few weeks' intensive training seemed fitting. Let's see him laugh after that.

"Merlin," he said forcefully, "can I talk to you for a minute?"

Merlin turned around with an amused expression on his face; an expression that lifted once he saw how serious Arthur was.

"Of course," he said and the two men went through the double door into the hallway. It was thankfully deserted.

"Are you alright, Arthur?" asked Merlin, concerned. "You look... different."

"Maybe I am," he said seriously. "I was just in the hall talking to this serving girl and it suddenly hit me."

"What, what hit you?"

"I understand the point. Of the swap. I was looking around that hall and it was as though I could see everyone from a different perspective, a different point of view. The whole world was looking away and suddenly I saw that all of them feel the same confusion as I do. Locking myself away in anger solves nothing. I am a Prince and I have a greater responsibility to them. I need to spend more time seeing them."

Merlin smiled; one of his gigantic grins lighting up the room.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, speechless, "that's just. Wow. I...I'm... impressed. Wow."

And he reached up and took the hat off Arthur's head and placed it on his own.

Arthur smiled widely, "you look like a complete fool."

"Arthur's fool," said Merlin brightly.

"Arthur's trickster," corrected the Prince.

Merlin gave him a quizzical look. "What do you know about mythology?" he asked.

"I... nothing," said Arthur, a momentarily spark in his mind fading, "nothing at all."

"Well, my Lord, shall we rejoin the feast?"

"Yes, my servant, we shall."

And they threw open the doors, the peasant and the prince. And as the whole room turned and saw their clothing was the same but the hat was now on the wrong head, they stopped for a moment. Just for one moment confused as to which was supposed to be which. Merlin and Arthur smiled and the two men walked into the room. Together.


	11. By the way

**By the way**

"By the way, Merlin," inquired Arthur the next morning as Merlin brought him his breakfast. Late.

"How come you've never offered _me_ a massage?"

"Sorry Sire," said Merlin apologetically, "but you don't even _own_ a nightgown."

He grinned and Arthur laughed, feeling somewhat vindicated. Not to mention relieved.

"I knew it, I knew she wasn't serious."

Merlin joined in the laughter, plopping the breakfast tray down quickly before his mirth upset the eggs.

'Oh, I know, it's ridiculous."

"Ludicrous," agreed Arthur, matter-of-factly.

"I wish I'd seen the look on your face, honestly."

He stopped laughing suddenly. "I mean, she knew perfectly well you wouldn't know how to give a massage."

And then he gave a quick grin and exited the room.

"Wait... what? Merlin!"

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**And that's it folks. Please review if you enjoyed. It's what inspires us after all. And it's back to work...**


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